Chapter 90
Glass-Stone-Crystal
Thuong Tung opens the secret chamber door, sheds his coat, tosses it onto a chair, and collapses face-down on the bed. A smug smile curls at the corner of his mouth as he enjoys the blurred sensations filtering through his shirt.
The touch is a weave of the real and the illusory, akin to a soothing sunbath, letting the gentle rays loosen his weary body, worn out after a day of chasing the halo of prestige. Wealth and power are the loyal allies that protect and sustain the life which once existed only in the vain dreams of the past.
The illusion of living together with the princesses… at this moment… feels more real than ever before. He neither knows nor cares how long this self‑illusory reality can last.
The man who imprisons his reason within a love he takes deep pride in—one more bone-deep than any moving romance in human history… only wishes… never to wake from this long dream… to satisfy… that craving: the "shadows of the princesses" voluntarily are warming this frigid winter night.
Immersed in sensation, those who willingly act as "shadows" still focus on providing him with psychological and spiritual solace. They listen intently to his every word, never interrupting, not for a fraction of a second appearing absent-minded.
Whenever he achieved even a minor success, they danced with joy and encouragement. If things went poorly, they soothed him with skillful, tender words.
They comfort the distress of one who can only secretly gaze at his dream lovers… while… his reason remains ever aware that, in this lifetime, he can never hope to touch in reality… the dream of "intimacy"… with… the flawless princesses… just as… those perfect figures are now caring for and treating the man who can transform them from the status of Cinderellas… into… princesses.
These women transformed into "virtuous wives", showing him absolute obedience, attending to his every meal and every hour of sleep, devotedly caring for this infatuated fellow who has suffered day and night amidst spiritual agony and physical scars.
These clever, cunning women elevated the level of "preciousness" to an extreme, refusing to let him lift a finger for anything. They took turns in shifts, striving to complete every task from the complex to the simple… such as… dressing and undressing.
Thuong Tung unconsciously shifts his body to the rhythm… his clothes slide indifferently down to his waist. He furrows his brow, feeling those slender fingers intertwining, playfully teasing him, making him burst out laughing… as… that tingling sensation, like a colony of ants crawling over rugged terrain, strikes him.
Fearing that alarming the target will lose the prey, the predator slowly overcomes the first obstacle—that broad, muscular, and rugged area—pushing the "Daughter Ants" down into two slippery cliffs, scarred with crisscrossing marks and scorched burns.
The "Daughter Ants" continue their intriguing exploration. "Mother Ant" remains steadfast on her original journey; wherever she slides, those buttons pop open one after another, clearing the path for the mother and daughters' reunion.
This time, the "Mother Ant" and the "Daughter Ants" treat every movement with caution, slowly follow one another, glide softly, touch gently… share the same feeling… the pain beneath his sun‑tanned skin, etched with knife cuts and sword scars crossing and slashing… in order to… approach… the "prey" upon the "promised land."
In this second intimate encounter, those dream lovers who once behaved with extreme madness on that wild night… now no longer act with the frenzied chaos of wild beasts. This pack of female monsters is now flaunting their tricks of acupressure, massage, and muscle relaxation. Every move shows tenderness, every second is filled with pity, like virtuous wives serving the man who must be regarded as their husband… since… that night of earthly ultimate pleasure.
All exhaustion dissipates under their superb skill in pleasuring men. Thuong Tung half‑closes his eyes in enjoyment… then suddenly slits his eyes sharp as blades… wanting to sever the illusion of "proffered love," not accepting affection, but rather exchanging it for the price of a royal life.
Thuong Tung does not say another half-sentence; his mouth shuts out all cheerful sounds, his interest completely spent. The two little princesses lie on either side of him, faces resting on their palms, smiling tenderly, watching him with fervor.
The Grand Princess smiles with her mouth slightly open, playing various tricks. She utters a-oh [1], flattering him, trying to calm his anger. He smacks his lips and sighs:
- Emotion is the harmony of hearts, not an obsession with pleasure. After only one intimate night, we have yet to become truly close. Both you and I understand that is only natural. But… tsk, how should one speak to sound like a polite gentleman?
They smile with pursed lips, listening to his way of speaking which remains slow and gentle, worlds apart from the lecherous manner that "triggered" them to die and come back to life all night long.
- Ah… the elders say that through constant exposure, emotions thicken over time. True, last night was already thick with rain-clouds and overflowing floods. Pity, it has not yet soaked in in time, and the crisis just 'evaporated'!
Thuong Tung speaks with a joking tone more than a truthful one, suddenly blowing a cold draft into those two words: "evaporate". They fear that sensation of the entire body being frozen… then… melting into smoke and clouds… if… the heavy rain cannot penetrate deeply for a long time.
Lost in confusion, a voice rings in their ears. It is unclear what the three girls hear; those faces, pale as corpses, instantly revive hope back to life… seducing the delusional one who still refuses to wake from a hollow, illusory dream. Thuong Tung hears giggling like the sound of drizzling rain, slowly seeping into the smoldering fire of his annoyance:
- You men want five wives and seven concubines, your careers soaring faster than a kite catching the wind. We women have our own dreams too. No matter who—princess or commoner—we all long for a full, wealthy, carefree life, and to be loved until old age by the one to whom we entrust our lives.
Thuong Tung turns to face his dream lovers. He wants to see for himself how real the sensation is. The three girls smile softly. Though they remain flirtatious and do not hide their ambition to change their lives, the skeptic feels that behind the benefits… is… the affection for the one they trust completely… to make the dreams of both sides come true.
The Grand Princess looks at him infatuatedly. The sharp princess smiles mischievously. The fragile princess lowers her head in confusion. All is silent, letting the experienced man silently feel the deep emotions. The female monster speaks in a voice thin and coy, sounding just like honey coated in sugar:
- We believe that in the future, you will dominate the world. On the day you become the strongest, the princess of your dreams will be by your side. We dare not complain, but it would be a lie to say we are not sad. At that time, perhaps you will no longer be interested in us, or fear that we will become an obstacle to your true love. If that is true, we will forever erase our identities as replacements.
She hesitates, wanting to speak, but her voice chokes, and not a single word comes out. Fearing their dread will become reality. The sharp yet sorrowful princess tenderly expresses her goodwill:
- If you still have a sliver of affection for us, we are willing to spend the rest of our lives in darkness, accepting our fate of turning into your entertainment!
The fragile and timid princess is so terrified she looks as if she is about to cry:
- We accept this life as replicas—no resentment, no hatred!
Thuong Tung is lost in thought; he understands those who crave wealth and glory. But when he looks deeply and intensely into those tearful eyes, feeling the sorrowful emotion struggling to hold back tears, he realizes they are blaming their low status, while simultaneously feeling resentful about their bleak fate:
- People say do not listen to a prostitute complaining about her fate…
Thuong Tung is suddenly struck with pity for that humiliating sorrow. He has always taken pride in surviving through reason. But whenever he has encountered 'his dream lovers'—even just looking at their shadows—his mind has voluntarily lost itself in the intoxication of passion.
Even more incredible is that... although sharing a bed with the replacements, his mind remains in a daze, refusing to wake. Every minute, every second, he is immersed in a hollow, illusory dream.
Is it the rise of a lecherous nature, thirsting for everything that belongs to him? Or does his reason fundamentally realize that he can never touch his dreams in this lifetime?
Thuong Tung does not understand himself. A man crazed by passion is letting desire defeat his own will. Whether it be a princess or a mere shadow, he does not want to see the goddesses he worships and the people he shares a bed with having to shed tears. Thuong Tung gently places his finger on the Grand Princess's lips, touching the cheeks of the two little princesses:
- If you think of yourselves as prostitutes, then you are despising me, tarnishing the image of the princess in my heart… and… insulting yourselves. Despite being discriminated against by the whole world, you must never look down on your own selves! - He gently wipes away their tears - Perhaps in the future, I will dominate the world, conquer the princess of my dreams… and… maybe… I won't need replacements!
He smiles slightly, watching them lower their heads gloomily, lifting the chins of these women of many skills, but now they are no longer acting:
- But that is the future. Now, you are the ones by my side. If you fear that vision coming true, starting from tonight, let you and I turn the nightmare into a perfect dream, so that if that future lacks you, it cannot be complete!
Sweet words convey profound meaning… shortening… the distance between longing and dreams… in… a relationship that is no longer just about exchanging the body for profit.
The moment he gazes at those radiant faces seeping with tears of happiness, Thuong Tung is as foolish as a man who has lost his soul before a fragile but unbreakable appearance.
That demeanor entrances reason, seduces the soul, evokes yearning, and challenges a man's conquering nature. Everything is a replication of the "dream lover"… like… twin sisters.
A replica, after all, is still a replica. Smiling lips have not yet been able to compare with the tender smile a princess shows to the one she dotes on. The twinkling eyes of the twelve water stations[2]… completely different… from those melancholy eyes that do not know which corner of the heavens to return to.
Sharp and arrogant beauty cannot compare with the proud charm of the Ice Queen. The fragile, weak appearance is far removed from the beautiful, magnificent, and pure image of the princess who stepped out of a fairy tale.
The Creator did not endow the perfect replica with a noble, queenly demeanor. Whether upright or lecherous, all men are attracted to that demeanor to the point of intoxication.
For the infatuated one, every time he admires and worships that demeanor, the craving for possession always urges him to cross the boundaries of reason and instinct. He has already suppressed his restless lower body countless times; the evil intent attempts to crush his fear of a death without a whole corpse... if... he dares to defile that priceless treasure, the God who holds the power of life and death will surely banish his soul to hell for eternity, and for ten thousand reincarnations, he won't even be able to dream of being reborn.
Heaven does not fail those with a kind heart. God sends messengers to give the replicas of the princess to Thuong Tung. Although they are only replicas, they are unique. From this very moment, the man crazed by passion is becoming the only one… who will be enjoying carnal pleasures with these flawless, perfection-infused bodies, reeking of raw lust… and… whenever they are making love, these insatiable, love-starved women will be surging with a craving for men as if they have not been intimate with a male for ten thousand years.
The two little princesses blow their scorching breath into his ears, nestling into his heart. The Grand Princess puts her arm around Thuong Tung's shoulder, swaying her shy eyes, and whispers awkwardly:
"Kiss me!"
Thuong Tung holds her, kissing her deeply. He gazes with rapt attention as the harlots relish the exquisite delicacy. Among all the women who have shared "dinner" with him, this group of female monsters has always been the most fashionable, the most refined, and the most dexterously skillful in the process of artistic appreciation.
This connoisseur claims that these gourmets have already tasted such delicacies countless times in the past. In his current state of erotic intoxication, he is deluding himself that from this moment on, the princess replicas will be serving him alone.
Just as the "Mother Princess" is drowning his intoxicated mind and his dazed face into the flowing river of the primal source.
She is bouncing continuously, biting her lip as she whispers words of love amidst an endless torrent of fiery, lustful sounds. The female monster licks her lips, her eyes glancing hazily at the two "Daughter Princesses" as they divide their duties and alternate their positions.
When the Elder Princess transforms into a masterful artist playing the jade pipe, the Younger Princess lingers gracefully over the musical keys. Then, with a magical shift, they become professional quartermasters: the Younger Princess meticulously cleans the sticky, lustful stains on the 'rifle barrel', while the Elder Princess moves down to the 'ammo depot', caring for every inch as she polishes the two 'grenades' that are swelling and glowing red, as if about to explode.
Their meticulous cleaning is not just a duty; it is a sultry provocation to keep the weapon fully charged. The way they polish the 'ammo depot' and swirl around the 'rifle barrel' is a calculated move to reignite the fire, forcing the 'artillery' to remain rigid and throbbing.
But every time the "artillery" is about to fire, the Mother Princess and her two daughters swap places, changing their tactics with rhythmic, gentle movements instead of their previous frenzy, just to cool down the scorching heat, ready for the next relentless bombardment.
Thuong Tung knows one but doesn't know ten. During their years in the trade, their master forced them to serve countless types of clients: those who craved something gentle and tender like a lover, and those who wanted to experience the warm affection of a husband and wife.
If, on those days when they hadn't burned souls yet[3], they had to serve a bunch of bastards. Those bastards did not like to be embraced or cherished; instead, they forced this group of harlots to be frenzied, to passionately devour the very thing that fed those who sell their bodies for food every day.
The current scene evokes memories of the past in these female monsters. Back then, the Master once trained them and that swarm of butterflies to lure the bees, earning astonishingly high profits. These three outstanding prostitutes became ultra-premium goods at that time. Experience and craving accumulated over time, transforming into their seductive demonic nature that bewitched all kinds of men.
In those years, the female monsters guessed that it was for these reasons the Master recruited prostitutes from three regions across the country, hunting down harlots from the East and the West. He once trained them, forced them to undergo every game the guests wanted to play, forced them to "enjoy" every bitterness, humiliation... and... every level of emotion, rigorously training them to become "talents".
Those who could not endure the pain were all eliminated. Hundreds, even thousands of girls who did not pass the harsh training disappeared mysteriously. But most terrifying and confusing, the police, the meddling media, and even relatives did not search for or mention it, as if... that vanished group had never existed.
Those who passed the rigorous training were classified into ranks from low to high based on their ability to endure humiliation and torture, as well as their service attitude toward customers. Next was based on physical flexibility, to measure how many people they could withstand at once, along with the standard and ideal combat time. Especially those who met all the above conditions and possessed infinite craving—girls like Glass, Stone, and Crystal who could fight through the night—naturally occupied the top of the list.
The Master once spared no effort, spending time and energy to train this group into sex addicts, making them keen on the game of climbing to the peak of paradise with every man, with the goal of providing girls to the upper class, aristocrats, and figures of immense power and influence.
Like those high-class prostitutes, Glass, Stone, and Crystal once experienced countless joys and endured innumerable humiliations. But they no longer felt fear; instead, they became addicted to games of extreme excitement. If these chronic addicts were not allowed to sip or enjoy that "delicious" thing for a single day, they would become restless and itchy all over.
Today, their joy reaches its peak as they eat their favorite "dinner" together. The gourmets and the connoisseur are savoring that familiar taste. These four gluttons are always ravenous, never letting go of even a single scrap of tasty, nutritious, and high-quality food. These three female demons are practically like monsters that devour people without spitting out the bones.
Due to their innate talent, being born to satisfy men, and because they are sharp, extremely calculating, responsive, adept at improvising, and insightful into men's psychology, these three spider-spirits have entered the Master's favor. He is determined to let this swarm of night moths metamorphose into queens and princesses, to offer these three most delicious and juicy preys to that womanizer who is obsessed with the surrogates of his dream lovers.
Though he knows clearly they are only substitutes, the mad lover in his hallucination still deludes himself, willingly lowering his dignity to crawl into the filthy place reeking of musky scent and rank lust to rummage about; immersed in that bizarre odor that bewilders the soul, he greedily savors the "sacred fragrance".
He imagines himself as a voluntary slave, serving and attending to those mistresses whom in his lifetime he can only crave to gaze at from afar, forever unable to draw near and lick like a dog.
They do not know how much longer this cat-and-mouse game will last. They are unable to determine the outcome of this plan to trade their bodies for massive profits... whether it is, in the end, a blessing or a curse. These female monsters know the male psyche like the back of their hands, yet they cannot fathom just how high their master's ultimate goal is set.
One thing is certain: the throne of a tycoon who deals in moths, manipulates the black market, and may even usurp the underworld crown in the future... will still... never be enough. His bottomless ambition is like... the Master's empty mind. The man hidden in the shadows may harbor plans far more profound and grandiose than the wildest imaginations.
That emotionless voice lingers in their minds like a ghost, threatening their hazy thoughts. Fear forces them to suppress any urge to probe their Master's intentions. They immediately adjust their attitude, treating the customer as God, focusing on their profession, wholeheartedly serving and pampering this fellow who is dying for... "girls."
The princess bed shakes violently as if it could collapse at any moment; the sounds of impact vibrate through the secret chamber. The space is thick with a pungent, musky scent. Barbaric and excited moans of laughter are soul-stirring, those lowly voices distorted like rioting spirits from hell.
Thuong Tung has gone completely wild. He lunges forward, using all his strength to drill through every hidden corner, slicing diagonally through the walls, and penetrating deep into the forbidden palace.
The sounds of peak pleasure and demonic laughter intertwine throughout the debauchery. The harlots are immersed in a frenzied orgasm; they lie motionless on the bed, unable to move, their breaths so faint as if they have "died" in that spiritual ecstasy.
Their cheeks are flushed pink, droplets of sweat glisten, and their hair is disheveled, revealing utter satisfaction. The four connoisseurs of "culinary art" smile softly, fully satisfied with this perfect dinner. Everyone lies on the bed. Thuong Tung, cheerful, strokes their hair and jokes with a laugh:
- You girls are truly a "perfect ten" in both quality and quantity. I thank fate for granting the three of you to me!
They giggle, roll over, and gaze at him tenderly:
- Do you want another round, you monster on my bed!?
Thuong Tung remains as polite as a gentleman:
- I want to love and cherish you day and night, but unfortunately, last night's match consumed half of my strength, and the other half has just been completely discharged. - He admires their flushed faces and their coy, shy smiles. - My eyelids are already fighting each other; I need to recharge immediately. If I truly discharge down to the bottom, I'm afraid there's a risk of the battery catching fire!
They cackle at his last sentence, and he gives them a light kiss on the lips:
- Goodnight!
The women turn away awkwardly, each huddling in a corner of the bed, raising their hands to cover their faces. Thuong Tung chuckles, lies back, narrows his eyes, and slowly falls asleep. Thirty minutes later, he is already snoring. They turn around, see him sleeping soundly, and give him a light kiss on the cheek:
- Goodnight, dear hubby!
Note
[1]This term refers to a flirtatious, lewd woman who excels at teasing, seducing, and captivating men.
[2] "The twinkling eyes of the twelve water stations" is a metaphor for passionate girls. It refers to those who suffer for love or individuals (both male and female) with an exceptionally high sex drive.
[3]This is the practice of waving a burning piece of paper in front of oneself. It is commonly used by shopkeepers without customers or prostitutes waiting in vain for clients to "burn away" bad luck. In daily life, when people find someone annoying or an "eyesore," they might say: "I forgot to burn the soul today" or "I am burning your soul".